Attraction Defined
by CrazyLabRat
Summary: There's got to be some definable reason why his eyes never leave Nicky's strong, muscular back. Why he imagines what it might feel like to be touched by those warm, deft hands in places and ways that one couldn't possibly consider to be merely friendly.


_**Attraction Defined**_

_Grissom: "A little technical reading, Greg?"_

_Greg: "Just wanted to see what the big deal is."_

_Grissom: "Attraction is subjective; it can't be analyzed."_

_Greg: "I consider myself to be pretty open-minded. I find other people's predilections very intriguing. What do you like? What gets your juices flowing?"_

_Grissom: "Someone who doesn't judge me."_

I don't know why that particular memory reared its head, today of all days. Especially since that conversation happened, what? Four years ago now? I laughed lightly at the thought as I mumbled to myself and glanced over at Trace. Where Hodges and Nick were talking, probably about Nicky's newest case.

"Attraction is subjective…" I sighed lightly, mumbling the words to myself as I let my eyes trace the outline of Nick's back. Defined muscles and toned lines couldn't be hidden under the thin cotton tee he was wearing. But damn did he wear it well. Not that he didn't look damn fucking edible in anything he decided to wear, but Jesus Christ, man. This shirt was one of my favorites. It left almost nothing to the imagination. Plain faded navy blue with a small A & M logo embroidered over his heart.

For those of you who don't know, or have been living under some rock in the middle of _east-bum-fuck nowhere_… Nicky is the best of them. No one ever says it, but its true and everyone knows it. He's kind, and loyal, and caring, and patient, and everything else that I wish I was. Hell, he's everything that any woman on this planet is looking for, all rolled into one beautiful package. So of course I'm attracted to him. Hell, damn near everyone else is too. The only people who aren't are straight men and gay women. But even then they still flock to him. They still want him near, so that they can bask in his warmth, his light. He's like the sun; people just can't help but gravitate towards him. Not that I blame them. Lately, it feels like he's at the very center of my universe, too.

His back suddenly arched and flexed as he languidly stretched and I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. A lame attempt to stem the blood now rushing to my lower extremities… But one can't fault another for trying, now can they? It also doubled as a way to stop the moan that was threatening to escape my throat, which I didn't want to have to explain. I'd end up babbling to the point of looking insane, and lets face it, people already think I'm a little off as it is. There's quirky and then there's just plain weird. But I digress.

My eyes slid to his shoulders and arms, flexing and curling while he spoke. I know that watching him like this is basically pointless. I mean, watching him is a great way to pass the time and is always a welcome distraction, sure. But I know full well that nothing will ever come of it. First off, even if he does swing anywhere_ near_ my way, he isn't attracted to me. There would have been some indication of it, some sort of sign. But there's been nothing. I should know. I've been looking for one for years now. That's why I've decided that I'm just not going to tell him. Ever. He doesn't want me in that capacity, which is fine. I mean, even if I can't have him, I get to be near him. That's enough.

Why?

Because it has to be, now doesn't it? Well… that and the watching.

It's been two years now, since 'Rick's death. Nicky's finally smiling like he used to again, and I like to think that maybe I had some small part in that. We've grown closer. He's actually my best friend now. Which is so weird to think about when I remember my days as a lab tech. Spending hours trying to think up ways to impress him, wishing that maybe he might want to get to know me as much as I wanted to get to know him. It's like I'm a different person, and that was another lifetime. Nowadays I spend so much time with him that the only time we're ever really apart is when one of us has to go home to shower and/or sleep.

We work nearly every case together. Which is really nice. We just fit, you know? We work… I don't know... seamlessly, or something. To me, there's just no one else I'd rather work with. He knows what to do before I ask him to do it. Always lets me snap photos of the scene while he checks the perimeter, first. Knows when I want to take the lead and when I need him to. Knows exactly when to push me, and when to back off. Without my having to say a word…

I just know we'd have an _amazing_ sexual chemistry.

If the way we operate together in every other aspect is any indication, at least.

Sure, everyone else is easy enough to work with, and damn good at their respective jobs… but it's just… _different_ with Nick. Grissom knows it too. He always has this amused half smile on his face whenever he assigns us something. Like he knows something we don't. It's fine though. I don't think I'll ever understand the way that man thinks, but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. He just wouldn't be Griss otherwise, you know?

There is a problem in all of this, though. And the problem is… me. Everything would be absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact that I am as gay as the day is long and have it bad for my best friend. The man who thinks I'm as hetero as he is. The sweet, kind hearted friend who sets me up on dates with wonderful and pretty women as often as he can. I know he thinks I'm lonely, and that I should try to find someone. And he's absolutely right… But I just can't bring myself to do it.

You see it breaks down like this: If I went and found someone else, I wouldn't get to see Nicky. Well, not nearly as often. Wouldn't get to hang out and get plastered at his place watching whatever sport or game happened to be on that night. I may not care about them, but he made it fun. Wouldn't get to have endless talks for hours on end about the next bird he intended to go out and watch. Or hear about his family, all his brothers and sisters and all their adventures growing up. I never got tired of hearing about them. I'd often wondered what my life would have been like if my mother had gotten her wish, and had a huge family like his. So it was nice to sit and pretend for a while.

Sipping my coffee, I sighed and turned my attention to the table just as Nicky spun around and started heading my way. I don't know why I always sit in DNA instead of the break room to drink my coffee. It could be blamed on habit alone, but that just feels like an all too easy answer to give. I guess some part of me will always think of it as the first home I'd ever found on my own. Not that I'd ever say that to anyone out loud.

He was poking his head in through the door, calling me. As if he expected that I was off in my own mind somewhere. Which was partly true, I suppose. "Greggo… Hey. We got him, the brother. Trace puts him at the scene after the time of death. And his alibi just fell apart. Lets go."

He was _beaming_. Positively _shining_ later that night. Happy to have caught the bad guy and put him behind bars. His mood was infectious, I will admit. I couldn't help grinning right back at him. Even as we talked shit about kicking each other's ass in the new game he'd gotten for his PS3. I still hadn't gotten around to buying one yet. Partly because my PS2 still worked just fine, and partly because I wouldn't need to actually be sitting next to him to play the game with him if I did… And I like sitting next to him. Very much, thank you.

We had a few beers, and he made me a makeshift bed on the couch. I didn't think I could drive and he didn't really care. I smiled as I curled into the pillow and waved goodnight. It smelled like him, so nice. He returned the wave and made to leave, but paused just before he made it to the hallway. "So, there's a new gym here. They just built it. If you ever wanna work out or whatever with me, let me know… It's free. Meant to tell you earlier, but I totally forgot about it." I perked up a bit, arching a thoughtful brow, I don't like working out, but I nodded just the same. He smiled and bid me goodnight once more before he disappeared into his room. The door shut quietly behind him.

Nights like these were both the cruelest torture, and the sweetest treasure. I suppose that I'm just too much of a glutton for punishment though, because I keep coming back for more. He's right down that hall, less then forty feet away. So close and yet, it feels like he might as well be in China. Still, no one else is this close to him, and I took great comfort in that fact, daily.

Granted, that wouldn't be true forever, but I could certainly savor it while it was. My eyelids fluttered shut and I surrendered to the land of dreams not two minutes later, a small happy smile on my lips.

It was three weeks before he mentioned the gym again. Three weeks aren't all that much time in the grand scheme of things, sure… but it had been long enough that it'd totally slipped my mind. I hadn't given the notion any thought at all and it must have showed on my face when Nicky asked me about it in the locker room one morning just after shift. I'd been tying my shoes, just finishing up when he shut his locker and turned to me with a smile. "So when do you wanna test out the gym?" I blinked owlishly, and he'd laughed and then took the time to refresh my memory. I scratched the back of my head with a shrug, saying that it didn't matter to me. Whenever he wanted would be fine.

Which was true. I wasn't picky. If it meant spending copious amounts of time with him flexing and panting and possibly shirtless, well who the fuck am I to complain? He dropped a friendly hand onto my shoulder and squeezed once before saying something about tomorrow afternoon. At least, that's what I _hoped_ he'd said.

It always was difficult to follow his words when he was touching me. My brain always ended up focused on his hand, fingers splayed gently over my skin. It was even worse when he lingered for an extra half a second. Made my heart jump just a little bit. I nodded wordlessly, not trusting my brain to control the things that might spill from my mouth. He smiled and nodded his head towards the door, one word on his lips. "Beer?" Grinning, I shut my locker and nodded yet again. Beer always tasted best whenever Nicky was around.

We'd called it an early night and I'd gone home after drinking only three bottles. Which in retrospect was a good thing, because I need to shower and sleep if I'm supposed to be working out tomorrow. I sighed as I brushed my teeth. In all honestly the words 'gym' and 'Greg Sanders' had never been synonymous. Hell, they'd almost never been used in the same sentence before. But alas, the things I do to myself for his sake. Okay, sure… Going to the gym is good for you._ Supposedly_. There's nothing that can be done at the gym that I can't do at home, was always my response whenever anyone asked. I jog and run, do a few crunches every now and then. But I'm far from the type who likes to work out mindlessly for hours on end.

Still, I'd certainly done _worse_ things then workout because he asked me to.

So I went to bed with my hair still slightly damp and awoke to the smell of my favorite coffee already brewing. Got to love timed coffee pots. Stretching languidly, I yawned and scrubbed a hand over my eyes as I walked out into my living room. I shouldn't have been surprised to see him sitting on my couch drinking a cup of my coffee. It's happened more then once or twice before. And I've done it to him on occasion, too. We had a key to each other's places for emergencies and such. But sometimes it just sucked sitting at home all by your self, so we'd bother one another whenever the urge struck. He grinned at me as I walked by, and then turned his attention back to the television. He was watching a documentary on some kind of animal. The volume turned down low.

Another thing that happened over time... I grew to love channels like Discovery, and Animal Planet. About four months ago, I'd also noticed that a bunch of recorded programs started appearing on my DVR. Things like: Cassowaries, and Amazing Journeys. I never really watch them, but somehow, they always manage to get viewed and deleted in less then a week's time. I've never said anything or complained because it doesn't really bother me... Actually, it makes me happy, to know that he feels so at home in my private space. Which is kind of odd… but I don't really care. I've always been a little weird.

It's part of my charm, really.

I make my own cup of coffee in silence and smile over the rim at him when I perch myself on the back of my couch. He's so enthralled that it's adorable. Kind of like a kid watching what will soon be their favorite movie, for the first time. And there we sit, silently until the program ends. Sipping our coffee while I watch him watching whatever the hell is on. I smile when it shows that it's a previously recorded program and he debates for a moment as to whether or not he should delete it. Chuckling, I stood and headed towards the kitchen, talking over my shoulder as I went… "You don't have to delete it. Its not as if I have all that much saved on there anyway."

I fixed myself another cup and turned to head back out to the living room when I notice that he's right behind me. My heart nearly stopped, and I laughed a little, suddenly nervous. "Jesus, Nicky... Don't scare me like that. Make _noise_ or something when you walk." He was grinning from ear to ear as he shrugged, totally unrepentant.

"I can't help it if I'm just that good." I shook my head and laughed but didn't reply. Can't afford to have my mouth running away on me. And people said I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut. If they only knew, right? He set his cup in the sink and leaned one hip against the counter, fairly close to me, I notice. "So what time do you wanna head out? Or do you want breakfast first?"

A quick debate proved that breakfast could wait. Besides, I wasn't really hungry anyways. So I told him as much before taking my coffee back to my room with me. I dressed quickly, brushed my teeth and returned to the living room in under six minutes. He'd turned the TV off, coffee pot too. I smiled and grabbed my keys before dropping my empty cup off in the kitchen sink.

"My car or yours?" He smiled and I knew without an answer that he wanted to drive, so I let him. Besides, I got to control the radio when he drove. Fair trade.

We were at his apartment in no time flat, and I smiled at the signs that still hung up over the office, advertising the new gym slash fitness center they'd installed. And it was pretty big. Tons of machines were lined up in perfect rows that seemed endless. Which made me nervous for some inexplicable reason.

As it happened, we started with the treadmills. 'To get warmed up.' He'd said. I ran for twenty-five minutes, without issue. But I knew that wasn't going to be a problem. I could run for a couple of hours if I wanted to. It came naturally to me. Running. Something that I always felt relaxed doing. Which made no sense given the amount of movement required, but still, it was the truth. Something in me felt _free_ when I ran.

It wasn't until we hit the weight machines and the free weights that things got a little tricky. Now, I'm not usually competitive by nature, but for some reason… I couldn't stand the thought that Nick might think less of me if I didn't keep up. So I pushed myself, harder and harder. Mimicking everything he did. Every set he completed, I matched… every curl, every leg-lift… until finally something had to give.

And something did give. It was my left leg, actually. It seized up. Cramped, so_ painfully_ that I actually cried out and dropped to the floor. He was at my side almost instantly; worry etched over his features as I bit my lip and curled my leg up to my chest. "Greg? What's wrong?"

It sounds idiotic, even to me, but I didn't want to tell him. Not that I had to, because he'd seen me drop. He'd been facing the mirrors just then. Looking right at me for heaven's sake. I swear, sometimes it feels like I just can't catch a break. But he was gently tugging on my leg and speaking softly somewhere close to my ear. He was saying something about a hamstring and then… "You have to stretch it out Greggo. I know it hurts, but you have to extend your leg, okay?" And I did. Even though it hurt like a bitch, I did it... because he was the one asking me to. And because his hands were light and gentle and he was touching me. Patiently rubbing my thigh. Forehead creased from both worry and concentration…

And it wasn't fair that even in this much pain, I still had to fight to keep control over the blood that wanted to rush south of the boarder, as it were. But his fingertips brushed through the soft hairs of my inner thigh and he was so close and he smelled so _good_ even though he should definitely reek by now. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut. Hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't notice how awkward this was starting to feel. But when his hands stilled, he didn't say a word. Worse yet, he didn't remove them. Nor did he move to stand or leave. His hands stayed resting on my leg and I blinked at him in utter surprise. Just what the hell was he doing?

Warm cinnamon brown eyes stared at me, silently. Unblinking. Then his hand lightly _squeezed_ my thigh, once. But it wasn't the same. He wasn't trying to help with my cramp, which had finally faded. It was different this time, almost as if he was testing me somehow. I furrowed my brows as he continued to simply watch me. Something about this moment felt _off_. I'd never seen the expression he now wore, before. It wasn't any different then his normal stare, _per say_. The lines of his face weren't set in some unusual way or anything… but his eyes. If there were a fire burning there, then I felt like I could see it right then. But I didn't understand what that thought meant even as it flitted through my mind.

I nearly jumped as his fingers curled around my inner thigh. Using the hold he had there as leverage, he shifted closer, ever so slightly… his breathe ghosting down my neck in the most _tantalizing_ way. I'll never know what he'd planned to do next, though. Because the door to the gym opened, and suddenly we weren't alone any more…

His hands were gone. That was the first thought to register in my mind as he sat back on his heels and let out a long breath. Then he was smiling at me fondly and asking, "Better?" I didn't really know how to answer that, because yes my leg was better, but my heart was about to pound its way right out of my ribcage. I settled for a quick nod, not really trusting my mouth or voice but it didn't really matter. Nicky just continued talking anyway. "We should call it quits for the day. How about some lunch?"

We'd settled for take out and hung around his apartment for the rest of the day. I didn't really feel up to doing all that much walking around and sort of just lazed about on his couch. It was nice because Nick was a bit of a mother hen and liked to fret about me if I made any sort of pained noise. It sort of made me miss my mom in an odd way. I really should call her. But anyways, it was nice.

I don't know exactly when it happened, but I must have drifted off to sleep at some point without even realizing, because when I woke up, the blackout curtains were drawn, a blanket was tucked around me, and Nick's apartment was silent.

Well… _nearly_ silent.

There were muffled noises coming from down the hall.

Nick only had the one TV, and it wasn't in his bedroom, never mind the fact that it was within my view and clearly off. I sat up and moved to stand. My leg still hurt a bit, but not nearly as bad as it had earlier. Just sort of throbbed a little when I walked, which I could handle. It wasn't like I was any stranger to pain anyway.

The door to his bedroom was shut, but the walls were thin enough for me to hear him. To figure out exactly what he was doing. It shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did, though. I knew he must get sexually frustrated. Knew he masturbated, just like every other guy on the planet.

But _knowing_ it and _hearing_ it are two entirely different things. I leaned against the wall and swallowed down the lump in my throat. He was trying to be quiet, I could tell by the way his breaths hitched, the way his moans were half choked… and fuck but that was so _hot_. Because Nick made noise in bed… Something I'd never had the opportunity to know before.

My hands were on my basketball shorts before I even realized I was moving, pushing them low on my hips, and exposing my now completely awakened arousal to the dark and empty hall. He was working himself slowly, I imagined. Listening closely, I tried to determine exactly what he was doing just from the noises he made. Then I licked my palm and bit my bottom lip as I reached for my own need. Shivering as I mimicked what I thought he must be doing to himself. And from the way it sounded, he was just beginning to establish a steady rhythm. He'd probably only just started… I grinned inwardly at my luck.

I had time to catch up.

What does his face look like right now, I wonder? Are his cheeks flushed? Are his eyelids fluttering, or maybe his lips are parted just the tiniest bit? I pictured him in the middle of his enormous bed, flat on his back; legs spread and mouth open in a gasp, his hand firmly wrapped around himself. Sheets tangled about his legs while he writhed in pleasure.

I clamped my mouth shut just as a moan threatened to crawl its way out. I cannot afford to make a sound, I know that, but my body keeps trying. His moans and gasps came faster now, and a little louder too. Tempting me to let mine out, too. My right hand moved to match his vocalizations, knowing his pace now, while my left moved to cover my mouth. I wasn't typically one to make much noise by myself, but he was winding me up and I just couldn't take it much longer. I wanted so badly to see him, _now_, lost under his own touch. Just the idea almost made me almost lose it. My free hand was moving before I'd registered it. And suddenly his door was quietly opening just the tiniest bit. I returned that same hand to cover my mouth again because… _fuck_.

He _was _spread out in the middle of his bed. His left hand mimicked my own, and attempted to stem the flow of noise by covering his mouth, albeit ineffectually. He was completely naked. Chest heaving as his other hand moved. I couldn't see much beyond the outline of his body; it was too dark to see him clearly. But I could see just enough. Just enough to haunt my dreams and fantasies for a lifetime…

He was a thing of _beauty_.

Real beauty. Not that fake bullshit you see with plastic supermodels and doctored smiles. No, real honest to god fucking absolutely undeniably beautiful.

And then his back bowed and his body went rigid while he moaned out, loud and long, one last time, and my vision swam. My knees trembled, threatening to drop me but somehow I managed to stay standing, even as my own peak swept through me. I bit my lip so hard I tasted the coppery-salt of my own blood. But I didn't care. I fought with every ounce of the last bit of strength I had left, to control my breathing while his was still labored and carefully reached out. Quietly, ever so gently, I reached for the door. Not daring to breath until it was securely and _silently_ shut behind me.

I pulled off my shirt, not really having any other option, and used it to clean myself up. Then I pulled my boxers and shorts back up before tiptoeing my way back to his living room, legs still shaking. And it was there, sitting on his couch, in the dark that I knew…

This had to stop.

It's gone too far already, really. I felt the heavy, sick swirl of guilt sloshing around in my stomach. And I'd known it would appear the second I came down from my high. But I _am_ human. My physical wants and needs had overridden my brain a short while ago, sure. But it was back in the drivers seat now, and totally focused on exactly how fucked up I really am.

No matter how you looked at it, I just watched my best friend jack off. Totally invaded his privacy and broke the trust that he gives to me, places in me, every single day. Suddenly, I wanted to vomit. I moved to grab my sneakers and tugged them on without care, grabbing my keys and dirtied shirt as I went. He wouldn't think anything of it when he saw that I wasn't here in the morning. He'd just assume that I went to go change or something. And that thought just kind of made it worse. Because I was a dog, running away with its tail tucked between its legs and Nicky wouldn't have any idea.

I avoided him as much as I could over the next two or three days. But that was hard to do when the man would show up at my house and let himself in every morning. Suddenly, I wasn't so happy with him being as at home at my place as he is in his. Not because he was there, but because I _wanted_ him to be. And I don't really feel like I deserve to get what I want right now. But still, he was there, on my couch, watching my TV, drinking my coffee and I couldn't do anything but smile ruefully to myself.

I don't know what made me think that getting laid would be any sort of a solution, but some part of my distorted brain thought that maybe if I got rid of some pent up sexual frustration then I might be able to quell the want for him, even just a little. So Saturday night, I called out of work, feigning sick, and headed out to the clubs on the strip. The Cosmopolitan was my first stop, but I didn't spot anyone there who might catch my eye so I left after my first beer. I had more luck at Voodoo. Which I found funny because it was a lot smaller, but whatever. The point is I found a guy.

He was hot, too.

His name was Dean, and he had a killer smile. Not to mention a nice chest and a great ass. He was funny too, not in a quirky way, but honest to god funny. I couldn't believe my luck. He'd made a move on me first. Sent me a fresh beer from the other side of the bar. I smiled, took it, and went over to him, to say thank you in person. He was new in town, but he wasn't a tourist. He'd just moved down from Maine? Massachusetts? I couldn't remember exactly. What I could remember was that he was a year or two younger then I; with short brown hair, emerald green eyes and the sexiest bottom lip ever. Every time he spoke… I wanted to_ bite_ it.

Anyways, talking led to flirting and more drinking and then that led to making out in the parking lot and him pulling away long enough to ask "My place or yours?"

I didn't even have to stop to think about that one.

He apologized for the boxes and the fact that the only thing he really had set up was his bed, which I thought was cute. Because I really didn't care, besides… The bed was all we needed.

He wasn't a stranger to this. Sex with a man, I mean. He knew what to do, where to touch, how to tease, and when the teasing should give way to everything else. His hands were fucking _amazing_. I couldn't believe the way he played my body with them, like a violinist or a pianist or something. Not that what we did could be called music, but it was _wild_. That's for sure.

The only problem was the whole aftermath thing. I never really was any good at pillow talk or the whole morning-after bit. But that might have something to do with the fact that I never really do the one-night stand thing either. My problem is that I tend to fall for people that are either out of my league or straight. That and I usually required some sort of an emotional connection before jumping into a physical one.

So the very few times that I'd actually tried the whole one-night stand thing ended in complete disaster. Not the during-sex part, no that usually went pretty damn well actually. It was always the right-after part. I tended to stutter or mumble or say something both inane and utterly moronic, before leaving as quickly as humanly possible. I always was an awkward kid, and I never really figured out how to be the cool ultra smooth guy.

That was probably why I didn't actually loose my virginity until much, much later then most. It wasn't even the whole being gay thing, either. There where plenty of men in San Francisco who batted for the same team. Wasn't hard to find them, either. It was just difficult to find one that I liked… one that stuck around long enough to get to know me. They usually only wanted my body though. And when I didn't put out quick enough, they bailed. Which is okay, I guess. Not everyone is built the same.

I didn't mean to fall asleep after our… activities, but I guess I'd just been so exhausted that it couldn't be helped. All I know is that I woke up with an arm draped over my chest and warm breath tickling the back of my neck. And I couldn't breathe for a moment because it was then that I knew my idea had been totally idiotic as well as a complete failure. It didn't help at all. Because even now, I know exactly who is lying behind me but I wanted so badly to pretend… for just a little while… that it was Nick. Wanted to pretend that I was curled up in his bed, under his sheets with him pressed against me, and sighing lightly in my ear.

I tried to gently inch his arm off of me without disturbing him, but he was apparently the world's lightest sleeper because his breathing changed and he was gently urging me to roll onto my back. "Morning." He'd said. "You want some coffee? I'd offer an omelet or something but I don't have any food yet…" There went my plans for sneaking out. I pulled on a small smile and shook my head once while I stretched.

"Nah, but thanks. I have to head out soon. Got to get ready for work in a few hours." He nodded and shifted closer, planting a soft kiss on my jaw line, before stretching and rolling out of bed. I bit my bottom lip in appreciation as I watched him wander around… totally naked. Yeah, fucking gorgeous.

I didn't realize what he was doing until he was handing me my clothes. "I can't find your socks… or your boxers. I'm sure they'll turn up, though…" I laughed and took my jeans and tee shirt from him, mumbling my thanks. He nodded and left again, this time when he returned he was wearing boxers and holding a steaming cup of coffee. He smiled at me as I dressed, leaning against the doorframe while he sipped from his mug. "You should check your phone, by the way. Someone called a couple of times." I frowned at the news, hoping that it hadn't been Grissom, calling me on my bullshit excuse.

I pulled my cell from the back pocket of my jeans, totally surprised that it had managed to stay in there through all the chaos from the previous night. Sure enough, there were two missed calls and one voicemail… but it wasn't Grissom who'd called. Suddenly, I didn't want to leave. But putting off the inevitable never did anyone else any good, so I doubt it would help my cause either. I sighed while tucking the phone back into my pocket, and made my way towards him, stealing his cup and taking a sip for myself. I found that I needed the caffeine boost. He didn't protest my actions. If anything, he approved, because his arm wound around my waist as I handed the mug back to him. It wasn't my preferred Blue Hawaiian, but it wasn't too terrible, either.

I opened my mouth to speak. Something like 'thanks and good bye', only a little longer, and hopefully much less rude. But I didn't get the chance. He was speaking first. "Are you seeing anyone, Greg?" I blinked in surprise as he addressed me by name. The way that he said it, though… It meant that he wanted me to know that he'd remembered it, that he was using it _purposefully_. The question had not been expected either and I actually found it rather funny. He'd said it so casually… Like it didn't matter to him either way. I'd been in his position before, but I'd never been able to ask it like that, as if the answer didn't matter. It was commonplace for some gay men to have one-night stands even if they had a boyfriend, and I'd found that one out the hard way.

I frowned and shook my head once. "Nope. If I were then I wouldn't have met you… Dean." Which was true. If I'd been seeing someone, I wouldn't have gone out looking for company. His eyes shined with a look that I hadn't seen in a long time. At least, not one directed at me.

"Well… would you be opposed to seeing me again?" He was shorter then me, so he had to look up to hold my gaze, but that didn't mean he was the one at a disadvantage. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat, totally defenseless against the heat aimed at me through those eyes.

Now I know that any other person might have seen that question coming… but as I've already said, I'm not really very good at this sort of thing. So I floundered for a half a second before I shut my half open mouth and seriously contemplated the idea. He was ridiculously attractive, laid back, and amazing in bed. He didn't seem to be overly clingy, he had okay taste in coffee not to mention a great sense of humor and… why the hell am I still thinking about it? It's not as if he's asking for some sort of commitment. He just wants to see me again.

"Of course not. Did you really think I would be? I mean was that a trick question or something?" The beaming smile that I got in reply was positively blinding. The second I saw it; I knew I'd answered correctly. He shook his head and dipped the hand still around my waist into my back pocket. He was holding my cell a second later, typing his number in while biting his bottom lip. My eyes followed the action and I was instantly brought back to the previous night. Knowing… remembering exactly what those lips were capable of.

A moment passed and he was handing my phone back while he set his mug down on a nearby box. Then his arms were around my neck, one hand sliding up into my hair as he pulled me in for a kiss. Just a peck… Neither of us had brushed our teeth, after all. But it was nice just the same. "Call me." The words were breathed against my lips and there was no way I could ever say no to that. So I nodded and let my hand rub his back lightly before I pulled away.

"I will. But don't be surprised if the calls are at weird times…" He laughed and shook his head once. Shushing me with a finger to my lips.

"You already told me. You work the graveyard shift. I was drunk, not plastered." I laughed too, and stole one last peck before stepping out of his arms and searching for my shoes. I left with a grin that I couldn't quite define, even as I started walking towards the bus stop. We'd taken his car back, so I had to go pick mine up. Now, I blame it on the lack of caffeine and the glare from the sun, but I didn't realize exactly where I was until I'd made it across the street. But wouldn't you know it? Dean lives two buildings away from Nicky.

In the same apartment complexes and everything.

I slapped a hand over my face and sighed into my palm as I walked back across the street. No matter where I went, it seemed I couldn't ever escape him. Oh well. At least he could give me a ride back to my car.

At that thought I pulled my cell out once more and dialed my voicemail. Sure enough, Nick's worried voice filled my ear, asking if I needed anything after he got out of work. Wondering why I didn't tell him that I hadn't been feeling well. I laughed as I saved the message and let myself into his apartment. It was quiet, but that was probably because he wasn't home yet. I kicked off my shoes and headed for his couch, flopping down heavily, and tossing an arm over my eyes.

I awoke some time later to Nicky's hand on my arm, and his worried face hovering above me.

"Greg? Hey… Are you okay?" I blinked up at him and rubbed my eyes a bit before I glanced over to the clock on the wall. Eleven a.m. He was pretty late getting back today, it seemed. I smiled and nodded, finally responding to his query.

"Yeah… I just… Needed to take a night off and actually pretend I have a life, for once. Came over after I got your call. Didn't mean to worry you. Sorry, dude." He smiled down at me and shook his head while he perched himself on the back of the couch.

"It's cool… I just wish that you had let me in on it or something. I could've helped your cause, or hell, been your wingman..." I chuckled outwardly, even as I wanted to curl up into a ball where I lay. He really was too good to me. God I am such a fucking prick. Though, the thought itself was kind of funny. I mean, just imagining Nick trying to help me pick up guys. The very idea was just too absurd for words.

"Nah… No need. I can get my own. Not that it matters either way... I'm really not good at the whole one night thing, so I've decided there'll be no more of that. It's just not my bag. Was nice to go out, though." I dropped my eyes away from his, and changed the subject. Not wanting to delve any deeper into the topic. "But anyways, where've you been? I thought you'd be back sooner…" Now, in my defense… I did try to keep the petulant child in me from seeping into my tone, but I must have failed judging by the way he laughed.

"I went to go check on you. When you didn't call me back I got a little worried, 'cause that's not like you. Plus I thought maybe you might like some soup or something, so I made a couple of pit stops." He absently gestured to the takeout container resting on his dining room table before shrugging lightly. "But it seems that it'll just go to waste." I sat up and shook my head quickly.

"No! I'll eat it... You can't waste good soup, man… Just wouldn't be right." He laughed again, like he knew that would be my answer. He probably did. Because he was already halfway towards the table before I even had time to blink. I smiled when he picked up the food and headed into the kitchen. He returned moments later with a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. And I couldn't help but think about the scene he made as he approached, it was somehow so domestic that it made my stomach do a flip, in the most pleasant way. He'd thought I was sick… Was bringing me soup.

He'd been trying to take care of me.

Even now, when he knew that I was perfectly fine and had only been playing hooky, he was still taking care of me. Something pulled at me, painfully. I don't know why I do this... Why I tease myself with what I know I can't have. Its times like these that I wish I had the strength to leave, to move away or something. If I did I might be able to move on and find someone I can actually be with. But as last night proved, I can't expect to get over him just by being with someone else. That's like putting a band-aid on a bullet hole. Doesn't solve a damned thing.

But maybe if I found someone that I could love more…

The idea held some merit… but it was impossible, really. There was no one who could ever hold a candle to him. I sighed and thanked him quietly as I took the bowl and spoon from him. Smiling when he shoved my feet off the couch to sit down as well. We watched some TV for a while, but nothing interesting was on. It was all the daytime talk shows, so yeah. We tired of that after an hour or so.

He'd put on a movie, and for the life of me I can't remember what it was because I fell asleep again. And I had a dream. I dreamt that Nicky was playing with my hair. Running his fingers through it over and over again. It was such a nice dream.

He woke me gently some time later with a cup of coffee and a smile. He really was too good to me. I took the cup after stretching, and thanked him before taking a sip. It wasn't until I'd downed half of it that I'd realized something… "This is Blue Hawaiian…"

He paused for a moment, then grinned and waved his hand once. "Don't get too excited. It's from your house. I grabbed a little bit for you and brought it over here a while ago. Sort of like a 'just in case' type thing." I grinned into my cup and savored the next sip, letting my eyes flutter closed in appreciation. Leave it to the Boy Scout. He really needs to stop doing things like this. Things that make me want him even more. Yeah, sure, he's just being a nice person, a thoughtful best friend. But things like this… these little things mean so much more to me… more then he'll ever understand. I'm startled out of my musings when he ruffles my hair, and I protest weakly. Because the façade that I uphold called for it, but really, I was reminded of my dream… and I didn't want him to stop.

An hour passed by as time does, and he yawned. I smiled and stood, bringing my mug to the sink then pulled on my shoes. "Go to bed, Nick. I'll catch you tomorrow." He smiled and nodded once while stretching.

"That's probably a good idea. Night, Greggo." I replied in kind and stepped out into the bright, warm day. I decided that I didn't want to waste time on the bus, even if it was a lot cheaper. Squinting at my cell phone, trying to see through the sun's glare, I called a cab. A half hour later, I was finally back in my car and on my way home. There were a lot of things to think about, but I knew that I would have to try and sleep again soon. My next shift was creeping up pretty fast, so I had no time for serious contemplation.

Once home, I showered, changed and crawled into bed. I honestly thought I'd end up awake for a few hours yet. But thankfully that wasn't the case. I was out within only a few short minutes, and I dreamt of Nick, and soft tender fingers on my scalp, and lazy summer nights.

Three days later, I called Dean.

I didn't actually expect him to answer, being that it was seven in the morning. To his credit he not only answered, but actually sounded like he'd been wide-awake, as well. Though I couldn't really be sure. We talked easily enough. He knew it was me only seconds into the call. Which made me smile. I was glad that I'd apparently made such an impression.

We went out to a late lunch, so that I could catch a quick catnap before hand. And it was actually really nice. The conversation flowed easily, and I learned quite a bit about him. Learned that he came from a small close nit family, one that traveled around a lot. His mother had passed when he was very young, and his father raised him. He had a younger sibling, too. A brother… whom he hadn't seen in a long time, but missed quite a bit. He was in college in California. Dean sounded so proud when he'd said it, but there was something off about it, something that clouded his eyes when he talked about it. I was so intensely curious, but I let it go. It isn't as if I know him well enough to ask after something so obviously personal.

He's not quiet, and he's a little crude and he's pretty sure of himself. Knows exactly how attractive he is, but somehow doesn't come off as vain or narcissistic. He doesn't try to kiss me, or hold my hand, but he sits close and sends me these heated looks. Waiting for me to make the first move. He lets me call the shots. And I really wish I could love someone like him. I really do. Sitting there, talking about his favorite classic rock bands, I can't help but think of how much easier things would be, if I could love Dean instead. We could date, and have awkward but memorable moments and he could ask me to move in with him and we could grow old together. Build a life around each other. I could see all of that and more as I looked into his clear green eyes. It would be so easy.

And yet, when Nick called in the middle of it all, I still answered.

I still left Dean with an apology and a promise of a phone call sometime again soon. Because I am weak and because even knowing all of that, I still want Nick… still pine for him. It's absolutely ridiculous. I know that… but I just can't seem to help it.

Over the next couple of months a pattern emerged. I spent most of my time with or around Nick, which was the norm. But then once or twice a week I would meet with Dean. But it didn't matter, I'd end up leaving before we could do much of anything other then spend time together and talk. Nick would call, wondering where I was, and like a little lost puppy, I'd go running back to him… every single time.

It was a Monday, some four months after I'd met Dean, when he finally asked after Nick.

"So who is it that's always calling you? I mean, I don't want to pry or whatever… but you really can't blame me for being curious..." And he was right I couldn't blame him. If the situation was reversed, I honestly don't think I'd still be around. Which is just another reason why I really like Dean. He's far more understanding then most people. And he doesn't really mind if I don't want to talk about anything and everything under the sun. Doesn't mind if I don't want to talk about anything at all. He can make my most horrible days better, just by talking about ACDC or Iron Maiden for the thousandth time.

He doesn't want excuses, and he doesn't play games. He's to the point. About most everything, unless he feels like being a smartass… In which case he is all about the indirect insults and playful banter. Can't get enough of it, in fact. I actually find it rather endearing, because even while he's putting me down, he's beaming and gorgeous. But he's not playing right now. And I've gotten to know him well enough to tell at least that much.

Something about his posture suggests that he thinks I might bristle at the question. Like he expects me to get upset or something. I frowned and shrugged easily. Trying to convey that I was in no way offended by the question. "It's usually just Nicky. He's my best friend. I mean, sometimes it's my boss or someone else from work, and once it was my mom. But usually it's Nick…" I trailed off, caught completely off guard by his change in expression. It was, just… it almost looked like he was… but that couldn't be right. No. It must just be a trick of the light.

"Nick, huh? You work with him?" His voice was tight, which was a little odd. I'd only heard it like that once before. When he talked about his family. I nodded, slowly. Not needing to reply verbally. Dean knew all about my job and exactly what it entailed. "So when did you…"

My phone rang.

I never did find out what the rest of that question was. I'd departed not two minutes later, leaving him with naught but a peck on the cheek and a promise to call within the next two days. I pretended not to notice the way he held my elbow for an extra second. Like he didn't want to let me go. Maybe he didn't. But I couldn't seem to hold on to him.

I knew full well what was happening. Knew that Dean was trying to reach out to me… That he was attempting to build something more… something meaningful… with me. And I wanted it.

I_ really_ did.

But I couldn't seem to bring myself to leave my phone off whenever we're together. And that fact alone spoke more volumes then I cared to admit. It was just over two weeks after that… when Nicky asked me where I was always wandering off to, nowadays.

I didn't mean to stutter like an idiot at first. But the question hadn't been expected and I didn't readily have an answer. Well, not one that I wanted to give to him. I scrubbed a hand over my face to buy some time then smiled over at him before I tugged off my shirt. "I-I'm uh… I'm k-kind of… uh, seeing someone. It's… nothing serious or anything. But it um… yeah." I had my back to him, and was purposefully taking my time while I changed. Not wanting to face him just then. My face was burning and my chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe all of a sudden.

A heavy, warm hand landed on my shoulder and gently squeezed once. Lingering for just a half a second longer then I could bear. "That's great Greggo! What's her name?" I shivered, a tingle of pleasure skipping down my spine. He was much closer then I'd expected. Suddenly, my body felt like it was on fire… and his warm breath was the cause. It puffed against my skin, and ghosted down my bare back in waves. An imitation of a caress... He was waiting for me to turn around, I knew. He had a thing about looking directly into my eyes whenever we talked, when he could help it. Driving or working not withstanding, of course…

I swallowed once, twice, three times before opening my mouth to reply. "De… Deanna. He… Her name is Deanna." I hated myself the second the words left my lips. The fact is, I'd been very proud of myself all this time. Proud that I hadn't ever technically lied to him... Not once. Not until today. His answering smile made my stomach churn… Made me feel sick. Plus, there was something… Something about it just didn't sit right with me. It didn't seem to reach his eyes when he spoke next. Though his words were sincere.

"I'm sure she's great! Just don't forget… if things get serious, she's got to get my seal of approval… It's like… a right of passage or somethin'." I smiled quickly and pulled on my shirt, nodding my acquiescence. Not like I would have said no anyways, but whatever. In all honesty, they are never going to meet, so it really doesn't matter... That thought made me blink abruptly.

And there we have it.

I have to stop seeing Dean. It's not fair to him, and I'm just being a selfish bastard by stringing him along. And I can't lie to myself… that _is_ what I'm doing. Stringing him along. I like him, and I like being with him, but… He isn't Nick… and he never will be. I won't ever come to love him even half as much as he deserves. I can't keep doing this.

I have to let Dean go.

I called him up that very morning. Ten minutes after I got out of work, and told him we needed to talk. He didn't sound surprised, or even the least bit curious. In fact, it sounded like he'd been expecting it. His only reply was 'I'm home... The front door is open'. And then he'd hung up. I waited a little while, grabbing a quick breakfast before making my way over. Trying to figure out the best way to explain. Not that it would be any less difficult. But I knew he deserved the truth. And as much as it was going to suck, I was going to lay it all out there for him.

I'd only knocked twice before he answered. Hand still in mid air. His expression was blank. Which bothered me to no end. He was usually so expressive, and animated. He stepped aside and invited me in. Asking if I wanted a coffee or a beer. I shook my head and asked if I could sit. He motioned to the couch and I sat, waiting until he did the same before starting.

"Listen, I'm sorry…" He held a hand up and cut me off before I could get any further.

"Don't. I already know what you're going to say, alright?" I frowned deeply. He sounded so calm but his face showed that he was a little upset. I sighed and glanced down to my hands.

"I don't think you do. Not entirely, anyway…" That was as far as I got before he cut me off again.

"Yes, I do. You like me, or whatever… but you love someone else. Right? It's actually pretty fucking obvious." I blinked in surprise at both his words and the calm tone in which he spoke them… and nodded once, slowly while he continued. "Yeah. I figured. It's that guy you work with, right? Nick, was it? The one who always calls?" Again, I nodded, totally speechless. "Are you going to tell him, then? Or have you already said something? Is that why you're here?"

That got me talking. And pretty quick, because I could see exactly what he was thinking and I had to stop that, now. "No. God no. Listen it isn't… It's not like that. Nick and I... It just, it'll never happen. I know it won't, and I thought that maybe… maybe I could try and find someone else. You know? Try and find someone to really start something with. But I can't… It's got to be him, or no one. You... god you're amazing. And smart and funny and you know how hot you are... You deserve more then I'm able to give you. Someone better…"

He stood abruptly, his cheeks red, and his eyes fierce. "I don't _want_ someone else, Greg. This just… It's bullshit. Why did you? Why would you let it get this far? Why would you let me get this close, if you had no intention of…" He trailed off and looked away, clenching his fists and I couldn't blame him for being upset. He was right. This was all my doing. Because I'd been selfish… Because I'd never really given how he'd felt any thought at all. "What if I don't give a fuck about Nick? What if I still want you?"

I blinked and my jaw kind of hit the floor. I mean, Jesus. "Dean… That's. No. I can't do that to you. You're not… you shouldn't be second… to anyone. And I wont treat you as if you were, either." I'd stood as I spoke, trying to catch his eyes with mine. Because I had to see them… I had to make him understand. "I'm sorry. Really. You have no idea exactly how sorry I truly am. Because I know how much of an asshole this makes me… And I won't blame you for hating me, but just don't… Don't do that. Don't try to let me use you. I won't. I can't."

"Why not?" His eyes were finally on mine again, and they were so pained that I found I wished I could bring myself to look away. "You were using me before just fine. So what makes it any different now? What… because I know about it? That's bullshit." He paused and swallowed thickly. "Why can't I, why can't I keep you?" I wanted to hold him right then. To make it better… but I couldn't. That would only make things worse… hurt him more. So I did the only thing I could do, I turned to leave.

Stopping just over the threshold before mumbling. "I wish I could've loved you instead… I really do." I was halfway across the parking lot before I heard him calling my name. And just as I was turning back, my eyes found a familiar figure across the way.

Fuck, fuck… _Fuck_!

"Greg, wait!" I turned to Dean, who'd just caught up to me, and ran a nervous hand through my hair. Waiting for whatever it is he'd wanted to say. But unfortunately for me, he hadn't been planning on speaking, exactly. His lips were warm and familiar on mine, and they held the promise of everything I could have had. Everything I was consciously walking away from. Gentle fingers carded through the short hairs at the back of my neck, weakly holding me in place one last time. I kissed back, uncaring of our audience; or of whatever repercussions I might have to endure. Because I'd already done enough to Dean. I could give him this at least. I could give him a proper good-bye kiss.

When we'd parted I cupped his cheek smiled down at him sadly. "See you around." He'd nodded but stayed silent and didn't meet my eyes while his hands slid down my arms and away. Then I took a deep breath, turned back around and faced Nick.

His jaw was pretty much on the ground, along with the coffee that he'd been holding and his eyes were trained on me in what I knew to be shock. That same sad smile returned to my lips as I waved to him once, and started for my car. Wiping away the one tear that had appeared on my cheek as I went. He'd started forward, then. Hand outstretched and calling my name once. But I'd already unlocked my door and gotten inside. I didn't pause to look back at him or Dean. Didn't stop to see what might have happened next, either. I just stuck the key in the ignition, and as calmly as I could, I drove away.

It served me right to lose Nicky anyway.

It was unusually quiet over the next few days. I awoke every evening to a fresh pot of coffee, like usual. But it was different. There was no TV on, with the volume down low. No Nick sitting on my couch first thing in the morning, smiling at me, and asking how I'd slept. No afternoons spent at his house, lazing about on his couch. No more video game competitions or sports nights. We only spoke at work, and the incident wasn't mentioned at all. Which was nice of him, but I almost wish he'd say something. Almost wish he'd show some other reaction then just this… quiet indifference. He still made corny jokes. We still worked together easily. We still spoke casually… but it wasn't the same. And I had no idea what to do.

So I just let it be.

This wasn't any more then I deserved. And I knew that full well. Doesn't mean it didn't royally suck, though. I'd accepted the fact that Nick wouldn't call me to hang out anymore. Resigned myself to never being able to call him my best friend again. Better to face facts head on then to waste time with denial, yeah?

That being said, it was a total shock when I woke up a little over week later and found him on my couch. Just sitting there… like he _belonged_ there. Like this was still totally natural behavior for him.

I stood in my hallway, stock-still. Blinking repeatedly. Simply stunned into silence. He smiled at me fondly, over the rim of his cup. "Morning, G." And still, I was completely speechless. It wasn't until he'd actually started laughing at me that I was pulled from my stupor. I rubbed my eyes and scrubbed a hand through my hair, unsure of how to proceed. Then after another half a minute, I shrugged and shuffled my way into the kitchen. I'd get some coffee and then figure it out.

I chugged the first cup then poured myself a second before making my way back into the living room, taking a seat on the couch. Making sure to sit a few feet away. "So this is a surprise…" I couldn't bring myself to look at him again, just yet. So I didn't see him smile, but when he replied I could hear it in his voice.

"There's a lot of that going around lately." Then he paused and I pulled my mug up to my lips, using it as a cover to glance at him. And he was smiling just as I'd thought. But his smile wasn't his usual one. This one was more on the… playful side? "For instance, seeing my best friend kissing another guy totally threw me for a loop. Finding out he was totally gay from the guy he'd just broken up with was even more of shock. But you know what the kicker was?" My eyes widened in unadulterated fear as I turned to openly face him. There was no way he was going to say what I think he's going to say… "Getting a lecture about treating him right, from that same guy a week later."

Fear melted into a frown, and I tilted my head slightly, confused. "What?" He nodded and took a sip from his own cup before turning his whole body towards me. He was still smiling, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why.

"Yeah that… uh, Dean? He really likes you, you know…" I sighed and moved my eyes down to the cup I held between my parted knees and nodded once.

"I know." I'd muttered the words, and for a moment I thought I'd said them so softly that Nick didn't hear. But then his hand was on my shoulder, squeezing softly, and I looked up again, in curiosity.

"Why'd you break up with him, Greg?" I couldn't do anything but stare for a moment. What would it matter to Nick why I'd left Dean? The question just didn't make any sense to me. Still, he was waiting for an answer. I bit my lip and glanced over to the TV to buy some time. But really, all it gave me was an extra second.

"Because things weren't working out. Look… it's complicated. Alright?" I shifted, preparing to stand, but a hand on my thigh stopped me dead in my tracks. Blinking owlishly down at it, I frowned. "Wha-…"

He cut me off. "Un-complicate it, then. Explain it, Greg. Why'd you end things with him?" Something about his tone of voice caught my attention. My brows furrowed at the pointed question. And for the life of me, I couldn't understand why he was focusing on that. So I narrowed my eyes a bit, in what I will admit was a defensive manner, and shot a question right back at him.

"What does it matter?" It almost felt like I might be dreaming the whole exchange up. It was just that weird. His smile was back, though not as wide, and I still couldn't figure any of this out. So I kept talking… "What do you care anyway? I mean, really… Why even bother asking? It's not all that important…"

Again, he cut me off, but the playfulness vanished from his expression. Gold flecked brown narrowing on me in irritation. "The reason someone ends a relationship is _always_ important…" He trailed off for a second, and his mood changed again. His smile returning as continued on. "Besides, I want to know. Why won't you tell me?" It wasn't until I felt his fingers gently squeeze my thigh, for the second time, that I realized he hadn't moved his hand away. When I looked back up at him, I had a second realization. He was a lot closer then he'd been a minute ago. So close, in fact, that I could count his eyelashes. Our thighs were almost touching and his shoulder brushed mine. I couldn't breathe… I'd apparently forgotten how sometime during the last ten seconds.

"Can I… Can I kiss you?"

And that was when my brain shut down. Then my heart stuttered then stopped entirely. There was no way he had just asked me that. I misheard him. I know I did. I swallowed audibly as my eyes drifted down to his lips, unconsciously. "W-what?" A flash of teeth, then his lips were moving again… forming words. Slowly. Deliberately.

"Can… I… kiss… you?"

I really must have hit my head or something, and pretty damn good too. Yeah, I must be delusional… Or dreaming… Or insane… Or I don't know, _something_.

"No."

I'd said the word before I'd even realized I'd opened my mouth. But once I'd started, I found I couldn't stop. It was like the damn had broken, words spilling from my lips without filter, or pause. "No, you don't want to do that. Not with me, at least. Besides, why would you even bother asking? It's such a ridiculous question, too. I mean, has anyone ever said no to you? Like in your whole life? I highly doubt it. Because, who wouldn't want to find out what you taste like? Not that I've spent hours thinking about it or anything. Plus I wouldn't exactly be your type. I'd have to lack certain equipment for that and no offense but I like my dic-…" I'd never been so glad to shut up in my entire life.

His index and middle fingers were resting against my lips, halting the endless stream of words, and his eyes were so very close all of a sudden. I heard rather then felt my every heartbeat, I was so nervous. It pounded and echoed in my ears as his fingers gently traced my lips. "I'm going to kiss you now." I don't know how I heard his whisper, but I did. And my breath hitched in anticipation. It wasn't a question anymore. But really, he didn't need to ask… that much was pretty clear at this point.

"Okay." Was that the lamest reply in the world? Yeah. Did I give a fuck? No. Because he was chuckling and leaning closer, removing the small space between us. His gaze was locked onto my mouth, and all I could think was '_Damn… He's really going to…_'

That was as far as I got before a whole new set of thoughts filled my brain. Thoughts like: _Soft_ and _warm_ and _fucking perfect_. Then there was a careful tongue and gentle teeth and little breathless sighs pressed against my lips. And then things like time and air became totally unimportant.

No, but what was important was getting closer, tasting more, touching anywhere… everywhere within reach.

He'd been the one to initiate the kiss, sure. But somehow, I was the one pinning him to the back of the couch, eagerly pressing closer. Sealing my lips over his again and again, dragging my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders and down his arms. He wasn't still by any means. His hands were just as active in their exploration of my skin. He'd ducked them up and under my shirt then lightly dragged his nails down my back, over my scars. And it wasn't until I was arching against him that I noticed I'd crawled into his lap. That I was actually doing a lot more then just touching and kissing him… But I couldn't bring myself to be embarrassed, because he was just as affected by this. I could _feel_ it.

He discovered pretty quickly that the scars on my back were overly sensitive. The way he kept dragging his fingertips over them, tracing them, seemed to suggest... I think he liked the way my body responded. It seemed almost like a game. And I couldn't readily tell whether it was one I wanted to win, or lose.

It was quite some time before we actually broke for air. Our foreheads pressed together while we gasped for breath. And I couldn't help it. I started laughing, like a mad man. Because here I am… Sitting in Nick's lap, and wondering how the hell it happened. Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

A hand gently cupping my cheek caught my attention, and I turned my eyes back to his, curious. "This is a real trip, isn't it?" His words were low, and amused. I frowned, a little confused, and waited for him to elaborate. "Here I'd been so worried about telling you that I liked you… and this whole time… Why didn't you say anything?" I'll admit it was a good question, but I was far too focused on his previous words to dwell.

"Telling me? Wait. What?" Yes, I sound like an idiot, and I am fully aware of that fact, thank you. But I don't care… because this shit is… it's impossible. The sound of his laughter made me smile, even if it was at my expense, because it always did. But then he was speaking again.

"You know, it's funny… I'd really thought I was being obvious about it. Was actually worried that that was why you'd started getting so distant… But then I saw you and Dean… and that… Well that was a whole other thing all together. I didn't really know what to do. I mean, I was gonna go after you. But then Dean stopped me... Knew my name even. He said to let you go. I figured he was right. That maybe you needed your space. But then he shows up at work yesterday, asking for me. It was really weird, you know?" I still didn't follow. Not really, because, sure… He knew where I worked, knew that Nick worked with me. But why would he go there at all, let alone to talk to Nick? It didn't really make much sense. I didn't have time to dwell on it though. Nicky decided to continue without my prompting.

"Said that I was an idiot if I hadn't figured out how you felt. I said that he should mind his own damned business, but he got up in my face. And you know what he said then?" I frowned and shook my head, no. "He said that he knew. Knew exactly how much I want you, and that you... that you want me too. And that if we '_stopped being morons for two god-damned seconds_', we'd see that."

"How'd he know you like me? _I_ didn't even have any idea…" His laughter sounded once again while he gently traced lazy patterns on my thighs with his thumbs.

"You know… I tried to pretend that I had no idea what he was talking about. Even said he was just imagining things, but he had a pretty good response. He told me that no man ever calls another man as much as I call you with out there being _something_ behind it. And I didn't really have anything to say to that… because it's true."

He ducked his head the tiniest bit and let his eyes fall to my belly, a light blush coloring his cheeks. And for the life of me, I couldn't remember living through a better moment, in all of my years.

"Dean was… I was trying to… It sounds so wrong, but I was trying to find someone to distract me... from you. So that I wouldn't end up fucking things up even worse then I already have. It was getting out of hand. And I thought that if I had someone else to focus on, then I might be able to push my feelings aside. Maybe build something with someone more... just… someone within my reach. And that if I had any shot of getting over you, I'd have to find someone I could… But it didn't-"

I paused trying to find the right words, glancing down to the hands still resting on my thighs, and nibbling my lip nervously. "It wasn't working. You were still my first priority. And Dean, he caught on pretty quick. He tried to talk to me about it. More then once… but every time he did, you'd call. Wondering where I was, and I'd just… leave. So when I realized how stupid I was being, I went to him to end it. He didn't want to, though. You know, I've never had someone blatantly tell me to use them before. It… hurt. But it shouldn't have. Because I'd already been doing it the whole time, so why wouldn't he expect me to just let it continue? Right? But I wasn't trying to… do that… I hadn't meant to. So I left him but he followed me out… then you… Fuck me. Look, I ended things with Dean because I'm in love with my best friend. Happy?"

The wind was knocked out of me at that very moment. Blinking up in surprise, I realized that Nick had flipped us, and pinned me to the couch with his body. His smile was wide and predatory as he beamed down at me. "Why, yes. Yes I am. Thank you very much for asking." I only had a moment to laugh before his lips were attacking mine, fiercely. But you know what? I didn't much mind.

I wish I could say that there were some scintillating details to report here, but really, the day just ended with us cuddling quietly on the couch. Not that either of us had any real reservations about progressing things any further. It was just that it wasn't about the sex right then. No, it was about being able to just hold each other. Well, that and getting used to being able to touch each other whenever the desire struck. Simple touches really. Like being able to run my fingers up his back and into his hair just because I could. It was especially difficult trying to stop myself from shivering whenever he trailed his fingertips up and down my sides. He thought it was amusing how it made me squirm so he did it for hours in random spurts. The best part though? That was when he'd tighten his arms around me so I couldn't get away.

Yeah… it was pretty damned amazing.

And when I woke up the next evening, it was with Nick's arms around me, and his lips pressed into the top of my head. I snuggled closer with a happy little sigh and a small kiss to his chest. Yeah. Life pretty much kicked ass. I was so happy that I didn't even care when we had to get up to get ready for work. I let him use the shower first, mainly so that I could take the time to tweak out happily without worrying about an audience. I threw my hands up in the air, pumping my fists in victory before playing a little air guitar and finishing it off with a power slide across the floor. Panting lightly, I grinned like an idiot and got up to clean out the coffee maker and brew a fresh pot.

Nick never took very long in the shower. He was like a Spartan or something in that way. But even knowing that, I still ended up shocked when he stepped into the kitchen not ten minutes later. So shocked, in fact, that I almost dropped my mug. But only because he'd decided to wander around my apartment with no shirt on… oh, and did I mention that he hadn't bothered to really dry himself off either? No? Well… forgive me but my jaw was too busy slamming into the floor.

Hey. In my defense… Wet was a _very_ good look for him. I licked my lips and set my mug down, shaking my head once to try and clear it. "So not fair, Nicky. We have to go in like twenty minutes." I heard him chuckle and I looked up just in time to catch the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Who said I played fair in the first place?" I arched a brow, a small half smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. Fine. If he didn't want to play fair, then all bets were off. I took the four steps that stood between us and reached for him, pulling him down for what I knew he'd think was a kiss. But at the last second I turned and licked a hot stripe up the column of his throat. Then, just for kicks, I nibbled his earlobe lightly before pulling back with a grin. He reached for me, like I hoped he would, but I stepped out of his grasp and clucked my tongue disapprovingly.

"Nope. No time. Have to shower." I snickered to myself as I pulled my shirt off and dropped it on the floor. "But later? … Now that's a whole different ballgame." With a smirk, I turned my back to him slid my hands into the waistband of my boxers and pajama pants. And a blush flooded my cheeks as I pushed them down.

Stepping out of them as casually as I could manage, I glanced over my shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of Nick's hungry eyes boring into my backside. And this time it was his jaw on the floor. Mission accomplished. Still, I couldn't help scrubbing a nervous hand through my hair as I silently headed for my bathroom. Knowing all the while, that his eyes were on me every step of the way. "Now who's not playing fair, huh?"

I showered in record time; before rushing into my bedroom in naught but a towel and tossed the closet open wide, scrambling to find a decent dress shirt. I dressed carelessly. Boxers then slacks then socks and shirt. A low laugh caught my attention and I grinned sheepishly as I sat on the edge of my bed to pull my shoes on. He was in front of me in an instant, bending to steal a kiss that somehow turned into three. "I'll see you at work, alright?" I nodded and stole a kiss of my own before he turned to leave. There was no sense in him being late on my account, after all. I downed the last of my cup of coffee, threw on my jacket and grabbed my keys and my kit as I bolted out the door.

Driving like a mad man might not be the best idea, sure, but I'd rather risk a ticket then have to endure the wrath of Grissom. I arrived at work with barely a minute to spare and panting, but a permanent smile was glued to my face. I hung my jacket in my locker and headed for the break room, where I was unsurprised to find that I was the last to arrive, and took the open seat to Nick's right.

And there we all were, gathered around in the break room waiting for our newest assignments. And I couldn't help but beam at our friends, and at Nick. Because even though anyone might be able to see, he still took my hand under the table and squeezed gently before letting go. It was just for a second, but it showed that he wouldn't have cared even if someone _did_ see. And I think that might have been the point. In that moment Grissom's words from a few years back rose to mind once again. And with a grin, I realized that Gil was totally wrong. Attraction _can_ be defined. And in only two words, no less…

_Nick Stokes_.

Though I doubt Griss'd ever realize that they'd been right under his nose this whole time. Which is totally fine with me. I plan to keep them, and Nick, all to myself anyways.

A/N: Okay, just to cover some questions that you guys might have. This IS an AU because Grissom never left. Nick WAS playing with Greg's hair while he slept, it wasn't a dream the first time. He WAS about to kiss Greg in the gym. And when he saw Dean and Greg, he'd only stayed away for a few days because Dean had advised him to do so for a little while. That's why his attitude towards Greg never changed. Also if you hadn't guessed, Dean IS pretty much based off of Dean Winchester from Supernatural, but not exactly him. I just think Dean is wicked sexy so I wanted to include the idea of him here. I don't view this as a crossover fic, though. It's more like an AU, because there are no demons/angels or any Supernatural stuff. Their mom did die, but not because of ol' yellow eyes and Sam never left the college, so Dean and he were never reunited. Well, at least, not for the sake of his role in this story. Yeah, I took a lot of liberties with him. So sue me. =D

I also wrote this a good while ago, and it was actually much shorter, then. Having only about four thousand words as its grand total. The overhaul took a lot longer than I'd expected and it kind of grew into this living thing and ran away on me for a little bit. But wow… over fourteen thousand words later, and here we are. All in all, I hope you guys thought it was worth the read at the very least. Until next time! ^. ^


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